Sometimes, The Wheel is on Fire

Wednesday, December 11, 2013

I have now celebrated the Coming of Claus for six years (going on seven). I've had my macro lens1 for the past three.

I figure, most people focus on the big things at Christmas — the giant tree, huge gifts, a jumbo ham or turkey — but we shouldn't forget the little things that make the holiday what it is.

So, to get everyone primed for Santa's Glorious Gift-Giving Extravaganza™, here's a selection of ornaments and decorations I've photographed from mere inches away. The smallest of the bunch (i.e. the pink bunny slippers) are only ¼" high, and most only show 1-2" max.

1 A macro lens allows you to take pictures from reeeeeally close up. You can capture very fine detail on very small things. Unless those very small things are part of larger things that want to lick you, claw you, or push the camera button. Then it becomes significantly more difficult. (Also wet, bloody, or whiny).

Thursday, December 5, 2013

Clearly, I've done such a good a job in my past three Jew & A sessions, all your Judaism questions have already been answered. I'm sure that's why, after 15 questions last year, I only got 2 this time around. Surely that's it. It can't have anything to do with my lack of posts this past year, which has caused my readers to go the way of the dodo.*

Anyway, because questions were in short order, I've cooked up a few of my own. Don't worry; they're Kosher.**

* They've all become animated sea captains.
** I wish. Apparently, tying up a rabbi and forcing him to oversee how the questions were made does not guarantee a Kosher label. All it guarantees is that G.I. Jews will break down your door and accuse you of rabbi-napping.

Oh, you want me to expand on that? Very well. When I was 14,* my family traveled to Israel to sight-see and visit relatives. Our van broke down in the middle of the desert, I got the worst sunburn of my life after swimming in the Mediterranean Sea for five hours, and my mother was finally unmasked as the charlatan we all knew her to be.

Oh, you want me to expand on that? Very well. We were in Old Jerusalem, and my mom took a couple photos of the Dome of the Rock. As soon as she did, a man ran over and chastised her for taking pictures of the Muslim women in front of the building. She said she was just taking pictures of the mosque, but he was not fooled so easily. "LIAR WOMAN!" he yelled, loudly and repeatedly. "You are a LIAR WOMAN!"

We'd assumed as much ever since she'd claimed she wasn't the Tooth Fairy, but finally we had proof.*In other words, still a Jewvenile.

Li asks:Why is it sometimes spelled Hanukkah, sometimes Chanukah? Which one is correct?

I already answered this question in my Hanukkah primer, but of course I was lying. (I am, after all, my mother's son.) Here's the real truth...

Each of the eight days has its own spelling. Let me break it down for you:
Day 1: Hanukkah
Day 2: Chanukah
Day 3: Hannuka
Day 4: Channukka Shmannukka
Day 5: Hanuqqah
Day 6: KHAAAAAANukkah
Day 7: Hanukkah II: Dreidel's Revenge
Day 8: Bob

Jesus. This is a tough one... but I'm still going with Jesus. I've always been curious how much of what we've heard really happened, and how much was just drunken ramblings by a bunch of monkeys on typewriters 400 years later.* Plus, that turning-water-to-wine trick would finally make my whinery a success.**

But really, after I bring him back to life (during a lightning storm, of course), I just want to teach Jesus to perform a wailing "Puttin' on the Ritz." It would be sacrilegiously hilarious.* "Monkeys" is, of course, long for "monks." And "on typewriters" is merely the modern translation for "with quills on parchment."
** What? It is too called a whinery. We're Jews. We whine. For reference, our beverages are made from the fermented tears of grapes who are distraught over the thought of their daughters marrying outside their genus. ("What about that nice Welch boy from down the street? Oy, you make your mother worry.")

Jew talkin' 'bout how amazing Thanksgivukkah was: We thought there would only be enough turkey for one meal, but the leftovers lasted eight whole days! Based on that success, we're figuring out which holiday hybrid to create next year. In the running so far are Arborukkah (planting trees for 8 days), St. Patrikkah (everyone gets sloshed for a week), and Lentukkah (you give up something for 40 days, but get a gift each day as a reward).